Docville 2013: Filmmaker Ross McElwee proves that even a Photographic Memory can trick us

Thursday, January 31, 2013, marks the return of Docville, the-end-of-the-month presentation of an award-winning documentary, courtesy of RIDM, Montreal’s documentary film festival.

Thurday’s selection, Photographic Memory is about Ross McElwee, his son Adrian, and two trips that McElwee made to Brittany.

The shoemaker’s children might not have shoes, but if Photographic Memory is anything to go by, the children of filmmakers can’t avoid scrutiny. Au contraire!

Ross McElwee captures several images of his young son Adrian, and images of himself, as well, in this representative moment from his documentary film Photographic Memory.

It doesn’t seem that long ago that I watched McElwee’s film Sherman’s March, in which he was a recently-dumped, single man, researching the U.S. Civil War while concurrently looking for Miss Right. And now he’s got this rebellious son on the verge of manhood?
Where does the time go? Needless to say, this is a question that McElwee asks himself quite often, along with “When did I get so old?”

McElwee frequently describes Adrian as difficult and obnoxious, (sometimes I wanted to say “Back off, already!”) but he seemed pretty normal to me, and as Adrian says himself, he’s never been in trouble with the law. Sometimes McElwee seems to be poking Adrian with a metaphorical stick, and maybe, after all these years, the kid is tired of having his every moved documented for the world at large. Will Adrian’s younger sister experience her own cinematic scrutiny in the future, I wonder?

McElwee decides to revisit France, because he was approximately Adrian’s age when he last went there. Maybe reconnecting with his younger self will help him to understand his son better.) Some time apart also seems like a very good idea, since they are obviously getting on each others nerves. There’s no rest for the wicked, though – through the magic of Skype, McElwee is still able to able to ask Adrian what he’s doing and why (or why not, as the case may be.)

McElwee had gone to France (specifically, Britanny) the first time to get away from his own father, a surgeon who was disappointed that McElwee had no interest in going medical school. (McElwee’s brother went, though.)

McElwee hopes to find Maurice, a wedding photographer who hired him as an assistant, only to suddenly fire him in a pique of anger. He also hopes to find Maud (cherchez la femme!) a former girlfriend. (He tells us that when he first met Maud, she was sitting in a café, gently stroking the ears of a rabbit that she held in her lap. Sadly, he must not have had his camera out at that moment. We can imagine our own photo, though. )

Since he does not remember the family name of either one, and did not write them down in his copious journals, this just might be a little tricky. Townspeople in St. Quay-Portrieux (they call themselves Quinocéens) gamely try to help him, though. McElwee spends 21 days on the shoot.

Photographic Memory was McElwee’s first venture into the digital realm, after decades of documenting his life on film. He’s got mixed feeling about the new (to him) medium, and he’s not sure that he trusts it either. he and a French photographer discuss the difference between tactile film and the more ephemeral nature of digital images. Where and how do they really exist?

McElwee has old black and white prints from his earlier trip and tries to locate the places where he met this person, took that walk and had these thoughts, but his memory is not perfect and places have been renovated, so, this is tricky, too.

The bakery where Ross McElwee would enjoy his morning croissant.

McElwee can make himself understood in French, but, not to be snotty or anything, listening to him can be painful at times. (Heaven knows, I’m not claiming to perfect myself.)

In looking at photos of his younger self, McElwee says that he could never have imagined himself as father, back in those days.

If we enjoy Photographic Memory, we must thank the citizens of St. Quay-Portrieux and Adrian McElwee, because if he had not given his father permission to use their sometimes grumpy exchanges, there would be much less to see and think about.

Personal reaction: As noted above, while watching Photographic Memory sometimes I wished that McElwee would give Adrian a break. But I also thought of two trips that I had made, in my younger days, to Florence, Italy. I took photos, too, black and white and colour. (Colour-slide film, because it was so much cheaper than print film.) It was my first trip outside Canada (apart from day trips to dinky Plattsburgh, New York, and Burlington, Vermont, and it was a revelation in many ways. While some parts of Florence probably haven’t changed much in 500 years, other things must have changed a lot since my visit. What would I see and how would I feel if I went back? Certainly, I’ve been meaning to do that for ages.

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